The question that often arises at conferences, seminars, meetings, and even at an ordinary gathering of Doctors, not of medicine but of education, is, "Are the subjects, say, history, offered at our schools are still relevant?"
The search for relevance, however, is an illusion, said Jacques Barzun. One who undertakes to find an answer to that question here or in the nether world will be frustrated, for relevance is "not a property of things, but a relationship in the mind."
Relevance exists only in the mind, not in the things outside the mind. There is therefore no such thing as inherently relevant or irrelevant. For instance, history in itself is neither relevant nor irrelevant. It only becomes relevant if the student of history plans to use his knowledge of history in understanding his present situation.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Nanos gigantium humeris insidentes
That means "dwarfs standing on the shoulders of giants." According to my ever-reliable source, Wikipedia, it is a Western metaphor that means, "One who develops future intellectual pursuits by understanding the research and works created by notable thinkers of the past." Joining the 2010 Davao Writers Workshop is like standing on the shoulders of giants. Here are some of the photos in which I, well, stood beside the giants (literally and figuratively).
[caption id="attachment_1795" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Ma'am Aida Rivera-Ford and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1796" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Ricky de Ungria and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1797" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Mac Tiu and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1798" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Tony Tan and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1799" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Dominique Cimafranca and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1800" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Tim Montes and I."]
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[caption id="attachment_1795" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Ma'am Aida Rivera-Ford and I."]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_1796" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Ricky de Ungria and I."]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_1797" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Mac Tiu and I."]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_1798" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Tony Tan and I."]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_1799" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Dominique Cimafranca and I."]
[/caption][caption id="attachment_1800" align="alignleft" width="400" caption="Sir Tim Montes and I."]
[/caption]
Monday, May 10, 2010
149 Minutes
Nervous, I inserted my ballot into the PCOS (Precinct Count Optical Scanner) machine. I was nervous because what if the PCOS would reject my ballot like it did to the woman before me. The PCOS didn't reject her ballot at all. But she inserted it six times before her ballot was counted. Less than a minute passed, the words, "Congratulations! Your ballot has been counted." appeared. I sighed.
What the COMELEC (Commission on Elections) say is really true. With the automated elections, the counting of the ballots will no longer take a long time, unlike the manual elections. But it's too early to celebrate.
Lest we forget, the searching of polling precinct, the lining up---all that, too, is part of the election. And there are so many things that can be said of them. So many, in fact, that I don't know where to begin.
Perhaps I'll begin with my arrival. If the election were manual, I would have arrived at the polling precinct very early. But no, the election is now automated. Which, as the COMELEC promised, is faster and more efficient. There is therefore no need for me to hurry.
When I woke up in the morning, I turned on the TV, watching what's going on in other parts of the Philippines, instead of preparing to leave for the polls. Over at ABS-CBN, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was shown voting. Per ABS-CBN's calculation, GMA took only six minutes to vote. If it's that fast, I figured I would go to the precinct at 8:00 in the morning.
The night before the election day, I had planned what would I wear and what would I bring. To warn the voters that if they thought only for themselves when they vote, if they wouldn't think of future of the country, they would get nowhere, I would wear my T-shirt with a quote by Conrado de Quiros: "You don't have national pride or a sense of country, you'll get nowhere." Sadly, however, I would find out that the voters were too busy to even bother to look at my T-shirt, let alone contemplate the profundity of what's written on it. To monitor the time and see if the election is faster than before, I would wear a wrist watch, although I'm not used to wearing it because it annoys me.
At 8:45, I arrived at the polling precinct. Already, the entrance to the Cabantian Elementary School, where I would be casting my vote, was dominated by "poll assistors" (poll assistants would be much simpler) distributing sample ballots, vendors selling mineral water, Max and Snowbear, teenagers and bystanders doing...nothing.
Then I went to my precinct: 1808C. Like all the other precincts, mine was already crowded. There were those who were looking for their names on the list pasted on wall. Some were asking for priority numbers. There were also the omnipresent "poll assistors," struggling to get inside, or at least get close to, the precinct.
I searched my name on the list to double-check if my precinct was really there. I'm glad I did, because when I found my name, it was listed under a different precinct: 1808E. But that was no matter. I was still on the right precinct. The COMELEC, I discovered, put the five precincts in one cluster. For instance, the precincts from 1808A to 1808E were put in cluster 545. Hence, the overcrowded precincts.
The polling precincts were replete with posters informing the voters of the six things they need to do to cast their votes. The procedure looked good---on paper. It was not followed. I don't know if the same procedure was followed in other places, but the actual voting procedure in Brgy. Cabantian went like this: First, the voter would fall in line to get a priority number. As for me, I started to fall in line at 8:50. I received my priority number at 10:24. After the voter got his priority number, he would again fall in another line that which led to the precinct. Once the voter got inside, he would tell his precinct number to the BEI (Board of Election Inspector). If his name is on the list, the BEI would ask for his signature and thumb mark. All that that took me no less than 50 minutes.
At 11:14, I was done casting my vote. All in all, it took me 149 minutes (2 hours and 29 minutes) to vote. I can say that I'm lucky to have just been inconvenienced for 149 minutes.
Some of you would say that 149 minutes is too much. But come to think of it. This was no ordinary day. We are talking about election here. It is the time when we choose our next leaders. It is the time when we decide not only the fate of our country, but also our fate.
If it takes only 149 minutes to choose leaders who would help our country better again; if it takes only 149 minutes to undo all that GMA did; if it takes only 149 minutes to reclaim what this country has lost; if it takes only 149 minutes to save us from another six years of felony, perfidy, and larceny----if it takes only 149 minutes to achieve all that, then we should be more than willing to spare 149 minutes of our time.
It cannot be denied that we have this tendency to inflate our own misery. But as the man, who tried to organize the disorganized voters at my polling precinct, said, "Kini na ang panahon para mag-sakripisyo lang ta gamay" (This is the time that we have to sacrifice a little).
What the COMELEC (Commission on Elections) say is really true. With the automated elections, the counting of the ballots will no longer take a long time, unlike the manual elections. But it's too early to celebrate.
Lest we forget, the searching of polling precinct, the lining up---all that, too, is part of the election. And there are so many things that can be said of them. So many, in fact, that I don't know where to begin.
Perhaps I'll begin with my arrival. If the election were manual, I would have arrived at the polling precinct very early. But no, the election is now automated. Which, as the COMELEC promised, is faster and more efficient. There is therefore no need for me to hurry.
When I woke up in the morning, I turned on the TV, watching what's going on in other parts of the Philippines, instead of preparing to leave for the polls. Over at ABS-CBN, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo was shown voting. Per ABS-CBN's calculation, GMA took only six minutes to vote. If it's that fast, I figured I would go to the precinct at 8:00 in the morning.
The night before the election day, I had planned what would I wear and what would I bring. To warn the voters that if they thought only for themselves when they vote, if they wouldn't think of future of the country, they would get nowhere, I would wear my T-shirt with a quote by Conrado de Quiros: "You don't have national pride or a sense of country, you'll get nowhere." Sadly, however, I would find out that the voters were too busy to even bother to look at my T-shirt, let alone contemplate the profundity of what's written on it. To monitor the time and see if the election is faster than before, I would wear a wrist watch, although I'm not used to wearing it because it annoys me.
At 8:45, I arrived at the polling precinct. Already, the entrance to the Cabantian Elementary School, where I would be casting my vote, was dominated by "poll assistors" (poll assistants would be much simpler) distributing sample ballots, vendors selling mineral water, Max and Snowbear, teenagers and bystanders doing...nothing.
Then I went to my precinct: 1808C. Like all the other precincts, mine was already crowded. There were those who were looking for their names on the list pasted on wall. Some were asking for priority numbers. There were also the omnipresent "poll assistors," struggling to get inside, or at least get close to, the precinct.
I searched my name on the list to double-check if my precinct was really there. I'm glad I did, because when I found my name, it was listed under a different precinct: 1808E. But that was no matter. I was still on the right precinct. The COMELEC, I discovered, put the five precincts in one cluster. For instance, the precincts from 1808A to 1808E were put in cluster 545. Hence, the overcrowded precincts.
The polling precincts were replete with posters informing the voters of the six things they need to do to cast their votes. The procedure looked good---on paper. It was not followed. I don't know if the same procedure was followed in other places, but the actual voting procedure in Brgy. Cabantian went like this: First, the voter would fall in line to get a priority number. As for me, I started to fall in line at 8:50. I received my priority number at 10:24. After the voter got his priority number, he would again fall in another line that which led to the precinct. Once the voter got inside, he would tell his precinct number to the BEI (Board of Election Inspector). If his name is on the list, the BEI would ask for his signature and thumb mark. All that that took me no less than 50 minutes.
At 11:14, I was done casting my vote. All in all, it took me 149 minutes (2 hours and 29 minutes) to vote. I can say that I'm lucky to have just been inconvenienced for 149 minutes.
Some of you would say that 149 minutes is too much. But come to think of it. This was no ordinary day. We are talking about election here. It is the time when we choose our next leaders. It is the time when we decide not only the fate of our country, but also our fate.
If it takes only 149 minutes to choose leaders who would help our country better again; if it takes only 149 minutes to undo all that GMA did; if it takes only 149 minutes to reclaim what this country has lost; if it takes only 149 minutes to save us from another six years of felony, perfidy, and larceny----if it takes only 149 minutes to achieve all that, then we should be more than willing to spare 149 minutes of our time.
It cannot be denied that we have this tendency to inflate our own misery. But as the man, who tried to organize the disorganized voters at my polling precinct, said, "Kini na ang panahon para mag-sakripisyo lang ta gamay" (This is the time that we have to sacrifice a little).
Friday, May 7, 2010
Aida Rivera-Ford recited Sonnet 29
Aida River-Ford is so known she need not be introduced at length. Suffice it to say that the opening ceremony of the 2010 Davao Writers Workshop was made more special by her presence, and by other venerable artists' presences: Tita Lacambra-Ayala, Margot Marfori, and Maria Virginia Yap Morales.
During lunch time, Ma'am Aida seated near us. She didn't eat right away, as everyone else did. Yes, she did get her food. But after putting down her sparsely filled plate on the table, she asked us if we have a copy of Dr. Anthony Tan's lecture, in which Shakespeare's Sonnet 29 was cited.
"I will recite it with feelings," she said.
Gino, one of the fellows for this year's workshop, handed his copy to Ma'am Aida. Then Ma'am Aida stood in front and held the copy in her left hand.
"You know, aside from being a writer, I'm also a performer," she said. "I used to memorize this, but now I forgot this already. But anyway, I will recite it."
Ma'am Aida didn't frustrate her listeners. True to her word, she recited Shakespeare's Sonnet 29 with feelings.When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Then everyone applauded her.
So beautiful is her rendition that, how shall I say this, nanindog gayod ang akong balahibo paghuman niya ug basa sa poem. As both fellows from CDO, Gino and Kuya Jay, would say, "Chada kaayo bay."
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Notes on the Davao Writers Workshop 2010
[caption id="attachment_1740" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="The opening ceremony of the 2010 Davao Writers Workshop was graced by Aida Rivera-Ford and Tita Lacambra-Ayala, the grand dames of Philippine Literature"]
[/caption]
The Davao Writers Workshop Summer 2010 is about to end. There are only few pieces left to be critiqued. Call me sentimental, but this is one of the events in my life that I will never forget. Ages and ages hence, I shall be able to tell this: For once in my life, I brushed elbows with the big-shots of the Philippine Literary scene: Jhoanna Cruz, Tim Montes, Gen Quintero, Mac Tiu, Anthony Tan, and Ric de Ungria, who serve as our mentors, or "tormentors" as some would say.
Merely looking at the roster of this workshop's panelists can be intimidating, what with their accomplishments and intellectual acumen. In fact, before the workshop, I felt as though I was so puny that if ever I'd be absent or present, my presence or absence would not make anyone budge.
Yet, for one reason or another, I didn't feel that way. Here, no one questions me why I do the things I do, which is to write.
[/caption]The Davao Writers Workshop Summer 2010 is about to end. There are only few pieces left to be critiqued. Call me sentimental, but this is one of the events in my life that I will never forget. Ages and ages hence, I shall be able to tell this: For once in my life, I brushed elbows with the big-shots of the Philippine Literary scene: Jhoanna Cruz, Tim Montes, Gen Quintero, Mac Tiu, Anthony Tan, and Ric de Ungria, who serve as our mentors, or "tormentors" as some would say.
Merely looking at the roster of this workshop's panelists can be intimidating, what with their accomplishments and intellectual acumen. In fact, before the workshop, I felt as though I was so puny that if ever I'd be absent or present, my presence or absence would not make anyone budge.
Yet, for one reason or another, I didn't feel that way. Here, no one questions me why I do the things I do, which is to write.
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